


When the red storm comes

by Moonsta



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:54:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29445870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonsta/pseuds/Moonsta





	When the red storm comes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My beloved kochana](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+beloved+kochana).



There has been a time where the moon shone white in the window's glass, where she looked through and saw her twin, waved and shared her story of the day. The white moon was a common occurence and saying goodbye to her sibling was never a difficult task, for she was sure to meet her again, sometimes.

Then, a time went where she couldn't find it, hidden beneath layers of shutters and unable to scream, for when the humans were distracted by the light, they simply clustered themselves in darkness. The white moon was hurt, for she thought her sibling just got enough of hearing from her, and so, as a true twin would do, embraced the same darkness it despised.

The white moon turned black. Her stars got lost in her sky, her constellations tangled up and ran away, her comets never dared to approach her, her planets frowned in pain. When no light came, the humans broke down the shutters, but when no light came, the reflexion was gone. The once white moon was alone, and cold, and lost, but she was never one to give up.

The black moon turned red. When the first rays shone upon the roads, she brought with her the flowers waiting to grow, she kissed the loved souls' and bed them a good rest, she caressed the air with her fingertips and made it warmer. She was the one to bring dawn, nostalgia, the feeling you get when someone smiles at you, and she brought the red storm.

The red storm tore off the planks from the windows, teared the tissues from the lamps, withdrew the veils from the mirrors and glasses ; she blew crimson winds and cried bloody lightning bolts, to scare those who made her feel alone. She was revenge, she was strenght, she was never to be forgotten.

There has been a time where the moon shone red in the sky, where she looked up and saw her twin, waved and shared her story of the day. The humans were never far, and the most beautiful curtains were never enough, for they still prefered darkness. How unfortunate, that the reflexion was so afraid.

When she turned black, she send her stars elsewhere, where stars would be happy, where they could play and dance and sing without fearing being devoured by twilight. But she was the one to bring dusk, and for she had a twin, shadows plagued upon their mind ; their one mind.

They had given each other's mornings, and when they couldn't anymore ; they offered their dusk and twilight. They gave their wind and storm, their stars and wishes, their dawn and early morning's goodbies, their everything, for it was never enough.

When the young lady of the house, the one who was afraid of the light, who stole the moon from her twin, went outside by a cold, lonely night, crimson eyes narrowed. She had a bouquet in her hands, purple flowers, smelling like youth and hopes, embracing each other like a dance. What she wore that night gave her a divine aura, as if she was not from here, she was ethereal.

She was the one who made the moon purple. She was the one to make her travel on a deep violet ocean, where lanterns flew and went, where amethyst rested on the lilypads like flowers, where they could walk on the water without ever sinking. She was always in the house, without light, without anyone, but she listened to the moon, and one day, she wore her on her ears.

She wore the purple moon so that the flowers never withered, so that she could always smell hope, so that she would remember that just like the moon, her sibling was never far, if not hidden in the shadow of the red lightning bolt she once captured and made her own.

She wore the purple moon to remember she was never alone.


End file.
